


Warm December Night

by maniacalchimera



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Multi, not actually Ansem TW except in some mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:20:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22058428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maniacalchimera/pseuds/maniacalchimera
Summary: It's supposed to be a perfect Christmas at Radiant Garden, but the weather doesn't seem to be cooperating.
Relationships: Aeleus & Ansem the Wise | DiZ & Dilan & Even & Ienzo, Aeleus/Dilan (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20
Collections: Kingdom Hearts Holiday Gift Exchange





	Warm December Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Birdnerd18](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdnerd18/gifts).



It’s a beautiful day in Radiant Garden. The sky is clear of clouds and the sun shines through the towers of Ansem the Wise’s castle, casting shadows over the evergreen trees and bushes below. Stepping out into the gardens proper, the air is gentle on the skin, a very light breeze cooling it from modestly warm to just slightly chilled. The winter birds are out and about, chittering happily with more energy than they’ve had in weeks. Everything is bright and colorful, from the green of the pine needles to the winterberries on the shrubbery.

It’s got Ienzo rightly miffed.

“It was frigid a week ago!” he shouts to the garden. A few birds chirp their replies, but it doesn’t seem to assuage him. “But the second I even think about a white Christmas, _this_ happens!” The ice in his tone really should drop the temperature at least ten degrees, but alas, the air stays pleasantly temperate. Ienzo balls his hands into fists and shoves them into the pockets of his lab coat.

This was supposed to be a perfect Christmas. There are still broken pieces to be mended, things that will take time and care to fix, but the shadow of Xehanort’s war has been left behind them, and after years—twelve whole years now—they’re going to be having a Christmas together again. Ienzo has been working hard to get everything right, picking his gifts carefully and keeping them hidden, even from Dilan whom he _swears_ has gotten nosier since they were Somebodied again. He’s helped with the decorations and hasn’t _once_ snapped at Demyx to stop with the Christmas carols. Emotions can still be difficult for him to process, especially at a time of year so fraught with them, after so many holidays without; but Ienzo has tried, is still trying very hard, to really feel the Christmas cheer.

He can tell that he’s not the only one. They haven’t talked about it, rarely do they sit down and talk about these things, but they’re scientists, they’re observant, and even a layperson can see the amount of effort the members of the castle have put into this holiday season. Dilan decorated the entire palace top to bottom, with lights and garlands around each window, on every tree. Aeleus has turned the castle’s kitchen into a professional bakery, the smell of cookies and peppermint constantly wafting through the rest of the halls. And even Even has gotten into the spirit of the season, frosting the windows with ornate designs that only an eye as dedicated to detail as his could create. Each of them has worked around each other, with each other, and for each other to make this old castle into a home again, to make a Christmas that feels like one.

And now this. This _awful_ weather, so horridly warm without a single cloud, a single drop of precipitation to pull from. “It feels like spring,” Ienzo huffs, looking over the spotless garden with a frown. The grass is dead and brown, sans the pine needles gathered around the base of the conifers they’ve got spread beside the paths. It’s miserable, and it’s ruined the most perfect part of Christmas.

_They’d go outside, the sky would be a lovely grey. Dilan would pick him up, he wasn’t the strongest but he always knew exactly the way to toss Ienzo with the wind and catch him again. They’d laugh and joke with each other and Aeleus would bring hot chocolate out, and then once they were all settled, Even would send a burst of magic into the clouds, and the snow would trickle down from the sky like stars falling._

But it’s too warm for snow now, even the magical kind. Ienzo gives one more harsh, directed glare at the bright blue sky, but he’s mature enough not to flip it off as he opens the door back into the castle.

Somehow, it’s colder in here. Ienzo glances to the hats and coats hung by the door and decides against it, for fear of looking silly. His lab coat will do fine. He runs his fingers along the top of his gummi phone. His parents will probably be all around the castle, preparing—Master Ansem, in his infinite wisdom, proposed that they host their multitude of friends from across the worlds at their castle, for a Christmas Eve dinner. “The only other place that could fit us is that dusty old mansion,” he said with a laugh. No one else was laughing, partially because it was not funny, and partially because it was three days before the Eve that this was proposed. There was no vetoing it—the idea had already been discussed with Yen Sid, who had already mentioned it to Sora, who was already texting Ienzo his itinerary for the party. And now, with a precious eight hours before the guests are due to arrive, Ienzo is sure the other three adults are running around the place like chickens without heads.

Chickens without heads probably won’t answer their phones if he texts them. Ienzo still debates it for a moment, before realizing that at least one father shouldn’t be hard to find; dinner for forty-some mouths must be cooked, and if Aeleus has slept the past few nights, it’s been on the kitchen floor, with one eye open and on the oven. It’d be logical to head there first.

To do what? Ienzo isn’t entirely sure. He supposes he could help, even if his skills with the kitchen appliances are surpassed only by Even’s in their danger level. Maybe he just needs a distraction, from the dusty, decidedly not-white landscape outside.

His approach to the kitchen is rewarded with the overwhelming smell of food, a savory mix filled with so many things that he can’t single out even one. He can hear the bustle of movement, and multiple voices, and he steps through the doorway. “Hello,” he says. “How’s the cooking going?”

“We need a bigger kitchen,” is Aeleus’s immediate reply. True enough: the kitchen counters are filled with every sort of appliance and tray, three different crockpots and two stoves going and the oven chugging along as well. There’s but one empty space, and at the moment it’s occupied with a large cup of coffee.

It’s not even Aeleus’s; Dilan reaches for it as he passes by and adjusts each crockpot’s temperature. He takes a long sip. “I think we’re over halfway done at this point,” he says, looking over at Ienzo. “Or we would be, if Aeleus didn’t keep thinking up additional hors d'oeuvres to serve.”

“I need hundreds, since you’ll devour eighty percent of them.” Aeleus gently shoves Dilan’s shoulder and looks over the counter. “Low, dear.”

“I lowered it!”

“Not to Low, you didn’t.”

Ienzo shakes his head. Aeleus is, without a doubt, the only reason any of them eat more than noodles and toast in this castle. Dilan, at least, has not blown up a microwave yet; which Ienzo assumes is why he’s the one allowed to assist at the moment.

That, or the two of them want to be sappy. _Gross,_ he thinks to himself. It’s not like he didn’t get enough of it, during cookie baking.

“It smells good,” Ienzo says as he comes further into the kitchen. “What’s on the menu? Entrees only, please.”

Aeleus rolls his eyes. “The entrees probably are not what you’re smelling,” he says. “It’s probably the potatoes. But we’re going to have ham, roast beef, and I’m making a cheese and vegetable casserole. I couldn’t remember if Naminé didn’t eat meat.”

“Someone is a vegetarian,” Dilan says with a hand wave, “someone will appreciate it. We just gotta hope no one’s vegan, with the amount of cheese you shoved into that thing.”

Aeleus slowly sets down the spatula he was reaching for. “…I didn’t think of that.”

“Oh for Light’s sake, it’s _fine!_ I bet you half these stupid hors d’oeuvres you’re coming up with are vegan safe.”

“Well now I have to make a couple more, to make sure!”

Ienzo stops at the counter-side. “You’ve got no one to blame but yourself for that, Dilan,” he says. He should probably offer to help; but they’re already so crowded there, it’d probably hinder them more than anything. Instead, he just watches them for a few moments, moving carefully around each other as they argue and set out more ingredients and pretend they’re not bumping each other’s arms on purpose. Finally, he speaks again. “Do you guys have Christmas music on?” He didn’t think there was a radio in the kitchen.

Aeleus looks up from the refrigerator. “In a way,” he says, motioning behind them. In the corner of the kitchen, back towards the small table they have, their still-unofficial final resident has his sitar set up, plucking out an old Christmas melody.

Despite the trances Demyx can fall into, he does seem to notice at the current moment that he’s being talked about, and he looks up, lifting his hand between notes. “Hey, Ienzo,” he says.

“Is this your idea of assisting?” Ienzo asks, eyebrow raised.

Demyx shrugs and plays the next line of _Greensleeves._ “I offered my services as a taste tester,” he says, “but so far I’ve been told nothing’s been done to the point of tasting.”

“Mm.” Ienzo supposes he can’t argue with that. There’s been many a time he’s looked to take the same position. “You’ll probably be fighting Dilan for samples.”

“That’s not the only reason I’m helping,” Dilan argues.

“It’s the biggest, though!” Ienzo dares to stick his tongue out, then laughs when a gust of wind knocks him back towards the counter. “Hey! No magic in the kitchen!”

Dilan waves another, lighter breeze towards him. “I’m not hurting the food!”

“But you’re cooling it down!” Aeleus reaches and grabs Dilan’s hand. “If you knock over that tray of quiches, I’m making you fill the extra ones!”

“What tray?” Dilan glances behind him. “This tray?” He grins, and another large gust brings the quiche tray into the air, where it hovers above them.

Aeleus is tall, but not quite tall enough to reach with his other hand and snatch the tray out of the air. “Dilan! Put it down!”

“Make me!”

Ienzo takes a step backwards, out of the way of flying quiche, and glances back over at Demyx. Demyx makes a face. “It’s been like this for hours,” he says.

“And you haven’t left?” Ienzo asks. There’s a soft clatter, but no quiche are on the floor and it looks like both tray and Dilan are now up in Aeleus’s arms. “No amount of taste-testing could be worth that.”

Demyx shrugs. “It’s this, or get dragged into your dad’s cleaning. Demyx, pick this up, Demyx, dust this counter, Demyx, wash the windows, I know you like water.”

“Fair,” Ienzo mutters. He glances briefly to his other two parents before deciding it’s too mushy even for him. “Do you know where Even is right now?”

“Last I saw, he was in whatever room you guys put the tree up in. The big one. I can’t keep track of which room has which stupid name.”

“The names all have meaning,” Ienzo argues back.

Demyx tips his head. “Then what’s the one with the high ceilings and the tree called?” he asks.

“It’s—it’s the shut up room, shut up.”

Demyx grins at him and taps at the strings until his fingers pick up another melody. “Right, I’ll make a note of that one,” he says.

“Obnoxious,” Ienzo snaps. He moves back towards the door. “Aeleus, Dilan,” he calls, more in their general direction than actually looking because they’re probably snogging now, “I’m going to find Even. Let me know if you need any help.”

“I’ll text you when we actually have things to sample,” Aeleus says. “Tell your father where we are if he needs us.”

“He better not need us,” Dilan mutters.

Ienzo waves a hand at them and leaves the kitchen far hungrier than when he came in. Maybe he should have tried to snatch one of those quiche; but that would have involved getting closer into the mush zone, and Light knows that when Dilan’s got Aeleus mushy, he gets mushy with _everyone._ Ienzo would prefer to put that off as long as possible—which means he’s got until gifts tomorrow morning.

He continues through the halls and eventually the smell of food dulls enough that the smell of pine can overtake it. The castle can be a labyrinth, but it didn’t take Ienzo too long to relearn its twists and turns; this was where he grew up, after all, and he was always undisputed hide-and-seek champion. He gets himself to the largest room—the living room, the main hall? Dammit, Demyx, this is going to bother him for ages now—and steps through the doorway. The tree Aeleus found for them is huge, stretching upwards so that the tip of the star on top nearly scrapes the ceiling. They needed Dilan to use his wind and hang most of the ornaments near the top. It was worth it, though; the whole tree sparkles, with its strands of lights catching ornaments and tinsel.

Actually, it’s sparkling more than the last time he saw it, and Ienzo comes closer, squinting. Something looks different. “Even?” he calls.

There’s a loud _thump_ and then a curse, and Ienzo turns to see Even drop down from one of the shelves he’s dusting. A large book has beaten him to the ground. “Ah, Ienzo,” he says. “Were you sent to help? I’ve mostly finished this room, so unfortunately I don’t have much to offer for you to do.”

“What a shame.” Ienzo moves across the room and picks up the book. It’s heavy, but the recent dusting has done it well—he can actually read the title. “The other dads are being gross with the baking so I’m not helping them there. Did you…frost the tree?”

“Hm?” Even turns and looks at it. “Ah, yes,” he says, motioning towards the tips glittering with frost. “Though I’ll probably need to reapply before guests arrive. It’s certainly very warm out today.”

Ienzo’s face falls before he can stop it. “I know,” he grumbles. “We were dealing with frostbite last week, but now it’s Christmas and the weather’s trying to convince us it’s April!”

“Such is the way of things, sometimes.” Even reaches out to take the book and climbs the stepladder to put it back. “No one can truly control Mother Nature.”

“Ugh, I wanted snow though!” There’s a bit of a whine in his voice but Ienzo doesn’t fight it. He lost out on quite a bit of childishness over the last twelve years so he doesn’t beat himself up about it when he acts a bit below his age.

Even shrugs and reaches for his duster again. He gives the books a few more swipes before setting it aside and coming back down the stepladder. “We have a few more months of winter ahead of us,” he says. “I’m sure we’ll have snow at some point.”

“But not today! Not for Christmas!” Ienzo crosses his arms. “You’ve made it frost in here, right? Can’t you give us a little bit of snow? Could you make it snow inside?”

“Ienzo, I’m already tired from cleaning this entire place top to bottom, and I have to _host_ tonight.” Even glances up at the ceiling. “With this temperature, I’ll knock myself out to give us even an inch of a coating.”

“Worth it.”

“Ienzo!” His father reaches and gives his arm a light smack. “I am not passing out for a white Christmas that will melt within an hour!”

“Scrooge,” Ienzo teases, rubbing at his arm. “Even if it’s inside?”

“On the _carpet?”_ Even sweeps a hand out over the floor. “Come now, Ienzo, think for a second about what you’re saying. We don’t need snow for Christmas.”

“But—!” Ienzo drops his hands and cuts himself off. _That_ may be a little too whiny. “…but,” he starts again, “it’s our first Christmas in…forever. How is it supposed to be perfect without snow outside?” Without the four of them, bundled up in coats and scarves, laughing and building snowmen and feeling _Christmas_ together?

Even is silent for a moment. When he finally does speak, his voice is soft, and he reaches forward to put a hand on each of Ienzo’s arm. “Oh, Ienzo,” he says. “Is that the problem? We can have a perfect Christmas without snow, you know.”

“Can we?” Ienzo looks up at him. “The best part of Christmas was…all four of us going outside, so you could make it snow.”

Even shakes his head. “Without the snow, the four of us are still together, aren’t we? That, more than anything, is what’s going to make this Christmas perfect.” He pulls Ienzo towards him, and Ienzo doesn’t fight it when one arm wraps over his shoulders and tugs him into Even’s side. “Christmas isn’t made by snow,” he says. “It’s made by hope, and family, and light. I believe we’ve spent enough of this year fighting for all of that. We don’t need to worry about the minutia of it on a day like this. We can just celebrate that we have it.”

Ienzo presses his lips together, bottom one stuck slightly out. “What if it doesn’t feel the same?” he asks.

“Then it doesn’t. But does it have to?” Even tilts his head slightly, some of his hair falling free from its messy bun. “It’d be boring if every Christmas was the same. Let this one be a little bit warm, a little bit green. I’m still spending it with you, and Dilan, and Aeleus. Surely, even if it’s a little different, it could never be worse than any other, yes?”

“You’re being sappy,” Ienzo says. It hiccups slightly from his throat.

Even huffs. “Well, it is the season,” he says. He pats Ienzo’s arm and then pulls away. “I’m going to finish dusting,” he says. “How about you go find some of our old Christmas films, and we can put some on while we finish up getting ready? Maybe if I get enough rest, I’ll put up an icicle or two over the windows.”

Ienzo pushes the sticky lump of emotion back down and smiles at him. “We could freeze the doors shut and maybe Master Ansem will rethink this silly party,” he says.

“Don’t tempt me.” Even ruffles Ienzo’s hair; and with the motion, tiny flakes of snow fall in front of his face. Ienzo’s eyes light up, but he doesn’t get to say anything before Even moves away. “Hurry up now,” he says, “or we won’t have time to watch all of them and then there will be arguments about whose favorite movie got shafted.”

“Well it’s our idea, we get first dibs!” Ienzo laughs. He brings his hands to the hair and maybe the chill is already fading, but maybe it’s the warmth that makes Christmas what it really is.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully this wasn't too cheesy!! Or, well, hopefully it's just cheesy enough? Either way, I hope you like this cute, dumb family, Birdnerd!


End file.
